


A Fitting End

by forgetmenotjimmy



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s02e19 Sabotage, F/M, Guns, Hallucinations, Hurt Jake Peralta, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Near Death, Rosa Being Scary, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-29 20:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20442275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmenotjimmy/pseuds/forgetmenotjimmy
Summary: When he’d pictured his state funeral with flowers and press everywhere, everyone crying hysterically, the story his Captain, or the President, told involved gangs or terrorists, hostages, jumping in front of bullets or explosions…not being stabbed to death with a ducking screwdriver in an ice cream truck by some washed up defence attorney!In another universe, Hoytsman was better prepared…sort of. Jake discovers how unexciting dying can be as the team tries to find him before its too late.





	1. Immortality Is Overrated

No one ever told him that dying would be so boring. Once Hoytsman had cleared off, with Jake’s phone because of course, there had been nothing for the detective to do but sit and think. Never the most patient person to begin with, Jake’s thoughts rattled around his head with a kind of crazed energy, as if his being unable to move had transferred all of his energy up into his brain.

When he’d pictured his state funeral with flowers and press everywhere, everyone crying hysterically, the story his Captain or the Mayor or the President or whoever told involved gangs or terrorists, hostages, jumping in front of bullets or explosions…not being stabbed to death with a fucking screwdriver in an ice cream truck by some washed up defence attorney!

Sniffing, he tried to focus on breathing without agitating said screwdriver, still lodged somewhere under his ribs. You would have thought that he’d be able to tell exactly where without having to look but no, the whole left side of his body was on fire so, he just assumed it was somewhere bad. He couldn’t exactly bend over to look. Thing was, he was beginning to think that there was no specific way he could breathe without jostling the fucking thing. If he breathed very shallowly, he could just about manage it…but then he’d get distracted by the whole dying crisis and forget, setting off a vicious cycle of flinching, pain, yelling and more pain until he could get hold of himself again. Hence the wet face and runny nose. On the bright side, having his nose blocked up by snot muted the smell of blood so, silver linings.

God, how long had it been since Hoytsman had left? At some point Jake had decided to sing ‘This is How We Do’ in his head, because the bastard had left him gagged, but that had distracted him from not breathing too much and so he’d stopped pretty quickly. He’d been left in this nightmare, this limbo of not being in danger of immediate death, but impending death. He was going to die soon…ish. Death was on the cards, in the works, approaching, near, nigh-

He choked down a manic laugh, biting his teeth into the disgusting cloth in his mouth. It was so much worse than an explosion or fatal gunshot, this slow, agonising boredom! He couldn’t think of anything but the hole in his side or risk making it worse, but after a while of freaking out about it…well, apparently there’s a limit to how much you can panic about slowly bleeding out in a freaking ice cream truck before it gets either dull or funny or a weird mix of both.

Jake really, really wanted to stop thinking about it. He wanted it out! He wanted to go home and crash or go to his mom’s and eat Matzo soup and have her fuss over him. A few more tears slipped out. Dully, he thought that John McClane wouldn’t have cried. Then again, he would have freed himself by now, or never would have got caught by a _lawyer _in the first place.

Never had Jake regretted not listening to Amy than he did then. It wasn’t unheard of that retroactively her suggestions had proven to be helpful or…right, so he really should have known better. He could be at home right now, sulking probably, but not dying. He remembered when he’d been not-dying; it had been nice. Perhaps worse than the imminent death thing, even worse than the constant pain he couldn’t relieve, was the knowledge that they probably wouldn’t find him in time.

Hoytsman had driven the truck somewhere after he’d tied Jake up; not very far away and maybe somewhere an ice cream truck would be conspicuous enough to attract attention, maybe someone would investigate it or want to tow it…but he couldn’t assume that. Worse, Hoytsman taking his phone meant that Boyle couldn’t find him through tracking it. They’d find Hoytsman though, the crazy SOB was almost certainly heading for some kind of law enforcement or the DA’s office or something. He’d make a scene and be arrested and he’d spill his terrible, terrible plan and someone would come and rescue Jake.

Though the longer he listened to his blood drip, dripping onto the floor, the less Jake held for that happening. With his luck, the addict had gone to score a fix, been mugged of the phone and left for dead somewhere. That-! Jake stalled on a bad enough curse word to describe a man who’d both been cunning enough to sabotage Jake’s laundry, power and drug test, but not smart enough to realise that no one could possibly believe Jake had tied himself up and then stabbed himself with a screwdriver. Crazy, stupid…lawyer! Maybe one of his friends would get him off on a filing error or a technicality. _Well, actually, according to Statue 103, sub section 3, paragraph 1: a lawyer is permitted to take revenge on his enemies on the 3rd Sunday of the full moon, provided he only use blunt objects…_

Jake blinked, feeling woozy, well, woozier. How much blood had he lost? From what he could tell, the wound was just dribbling rather than gushing…then again, it had been doing that for a long time. He just had to have faith. He had to trust that Rosa and Amy would realise he’d been taken and find him. They’d burst in and apologise profusely to him and he’d forgive them before passing out. The scenario played out so well in his head that he repeated it a few dozen times, over and over they saved him. He managed to while away some time on that fantasy before he breathed wrong or shifted and the pain flared.

Despite his scrappiness and habit of running into dangerous situations, he hadn’t been injured too many times. Sure, there’d been broken arms, bruises, concussions and the like but nothing he needed to be hospitalized for. People had sometimes commented – often exasperatedly – on how lucky he was. He would protest that he’d escaped harm through his wits and fast reflexes, but maybe it had been luck. Maybe it had finally run out.

…

Sophia was running late. Gritting her teeth, she sidestepped and danced around groups of lawyers, witnesses and defendants clogging up the corridors. Through the crowd she spotted her client and slowed to a fast-paced walk, breathing deeply and hoping her make up wasn’t smudged. Today was just the reading of the charges but Sophia always made a point of being early if she could – to help calm the client and make sure they wouldn’t do something to annoy the judge.

A few feet away from her client and she was brought to an abrupt halt by a hobo yelling her name.

“Perez!” She just managed not to flinch and was about to dodge when she recognised him.

“Hoytsman?” She asked incredulously.

“You have to help me! I have proof he did it!” He babbled frantically, waving something at her. They were attracting a lot of attention and Sophia began subtly looking for security, his smell suddenly assaulting her nose. God, when was the last time he’d washed?

“Perez!” He insisted, eyes wide and bloodshot. Oh no, he was high, wasn’t he?

“Sorry, Hoytsman, I’m on my way to a trial, maybe later-” At this he grabbed her jacket, ranting.

“He framed me! I have the confession on tape! You have to help me!” Officially reaching her limit, Sophia broke his grip and felled him with a mean right hook. By this time security had arrived and wrestled the sobbing former lawyer away, ignoring his increasingly desperate cries. Sophia’s client came over and asked if she was alright. A little shaken but brushing it off, Sophia nodded and opened her mouth to suggest they go in when the client bent down.

“He dropped his phone.” Sophia couldn’t care less until she actually looked at it; a cheap model with no protective case, a crack on the screen and a ninja turtles sticker. Her mind stalled, a dread beginning to pool in her gut. She took the phone.

“Wait here.” She ordered before hurrying to the security office, not responding to her client’s protests. _Don’t assume anything until you have all of the facts_, she repeated to herself. The mantra had served her well in her career and personal life too, except…Part of her _knew_ that her terrible suspicion was correct. She reached the office and marched straight up to Hoytsman, holding up the phone.

“Whose is this?” He perked up.

“I have proof he did it!”

“Hoytsman! Whose phone is this?”

“Peralta’s.” She stood back, whole body cold. “What?” Hoytsman had the audacity to look offended. “He doesn’t need it anymore.”

“Ma’am...” One of the security guards began, but she ignored him.

“What did you do to him?” She demanded. Hoytsman whined.

“He ruined my life! On purpose! I have the tape in my pocket.” Some uniformed officers arrived and Sophia turned to them.

“I believe this man has…” she choked on her words before pushing on, “harmed a police detective. Detective Peralta, from the 99.” The officers glanced at the pouting Hoytsman and frowned. “This is his phone!” She held it up. “And he mentioned a confession from Peralta.”

“I have the tape in my pocket.” Hoytsman piped up helpfully. The shorter officer spoke.

“Thank you, we’ll take it from here.”

“Do you want to press charges?” One of the security guards asked her. Sophia blinked.

“Oh no, just check if Detective Peralta is alright.” The officers assured her that they would and took the phone from her. She dithered a moment after they’d left but then pulled herself up and marched back to the trial room. She just managed to slip in before the judge entered, mouthing an apology to her client. As the judge began, she forced herself to concentrate. Jake Peralta wasn’t part of her life anymore, she’d done what she could to help him. Time to move on.

Easier said than done.

…

Amy groaned and said to Rosa.

“He’s going to be so annoying about this, isn’t he?” Rosa grunted, putting the car into gear.

“Yeah.” The pair had investigated all of Jake’s bad luck and concluded that although woefully disorganised and fiscally irresponsible, he had not been at fault for the most recent disaster. That left sabotage. Amy checked her phone to distract the neurotic part of her brain from Rosa’s frightening driving. They were going to Rikers to interview the most likely candidates and Amy just knew that Jake would mock them for taking so long to do what he’d advised from the beginning. No new messages. Huh, usually Jake was terrible at blanking people – he just couldn’t help but vie for attention, any kind, he wasn’t picky. Even if he was mad or offended, he would always offer some scathing and usually confusing retort. Frowning, Amy rang him, preparing for his crowing. Jake didn’t pick up. Amy told Rosa, who rolled her eyes.

“Because that’s not petty or anything.” Amy left a message and after she hung up, Rosa told her a story from training where Jake twisted his ankle on a run and spent the rest of the day denying the injury with increasingly disastrous results. They laughed and spent the rest of the ride telling stories or bickering about driving techniques.

They interviewed the biggest suspects, neither Rosa nor Amy had a feeling about any of them, though they decided to look into the brother of one of the convicts. He’d been loosely enough involved in the robbery to escape prison but emotionally invested enough to want revenge. As they were leaving prison, Amy checked her phone. No new messages. It had been over 3 hours since they’d left in him the street.

“He’s probably sulking somewhere.” Rosa offered. Amy muttered in reply.

“I’d like to know where that is.”

“You don’t have to mother him.” Rosa offered. At Amy’s look she explained. “I know sometimes he can seem completely hopeless, but he’s been doing this for a long time and he can learn. Might take a few tries but he can.” Amy nodded. She and Peralta had been partners for years and she’d come to recognise his skills and competence. Although they loathed to admit it, they’d developed a mutual respect. Captain Holt’s guidance and his stint undercover had done much to mature him even more, though he hadn’t seemed to have lost the ability to drive her to distraction. Deciding to count her blessings, she put her phone away.

…

Officer Blake held his breath as he wrangled the hobo into the station. The man was dressed as an office worker but smelled like he hadn’t washed in months. He would have much preferred to cut him loose than have to book him but alas, he didn’t make the rules. Thankfully the guy had quietened down some after Blake’s partner, Officer Dunhill, had threatened to taser him. Hobo was still muttering though, both officers ignoring the gibberish. when they got back to the 97, Dunhill said.

“Stick him in holding, see if he sobers up a little. I’m gonna see who the phone really belongs to, maybe it’s been reported already.” Blake nodded, guiding the perp into the station. As he was depositing him in lock up, the perp suddenly twisted and asked urgently.

“You’re gonna watch it, right?”

“Huh?” Hoytsman grunted in frustration, wiggling in Blake’s grip.

“The tape! In my pocket, he confessed to everything!”

“Alright, just sit down.” Blake tried to calm him.

“I have a family!” Hoytsman lamented.

“Okay, okay. Hold on.” Against his better judgement, he dug into the guy’s pocket and drew out a small videotape.

“It’s all on there!”

“Quiet down, we’ll watch it.” That calmed Hoytsman enough to safely deposit in the cell. Blake returned to his desk, tape in hand. He saw Dunhill. “We got a player that’ll take this?” Dunhill snorted.

“That from the junkie? It’s probably homemade porn or something.” Blake laughed, still he held the tape and looked at it.

“Maybe it’s related to a case. It was Peralta, right? The detective the lawyer mentioned.” Dunhill shrugged.

“Eh, maybe. Or maybe, it’s just that people on drugs say crazy things. Like that wet drip could take down a police officer! Look,” before Blake could go on, “just leave him in there a bit then discharge him with a warning. We don’t want him to stink up the place too long.” Blake nodded, though he still turned the tape over in his fingers. Detective Jenkins worked with the 99 a lot. When he got back to his desk, Blake would ask him if he knew Peralta and if this was linked to a case or just the ramblings of a junkie. For now, he put the tape down on his desk and started in on his patrol report.

…

Tailing the convict’s brother turned up nothing and they didn’t have enough for a warrant so Rosa and Amy reluctantly returned to the 99. They didn’t like it, but consulting Peralta was likely the best way to go from there. He still wasn’t responding to messages and despite her usual poker face, Amy could sense that Rosa was beginning to be concerned.

“Boyle!” Rosa barked as they approached his desk.

“Hey! Did you find the saboteur yet?”

“No,” Amy confessed, “have you heard from Jake? We want to get his opinion on the next most likely candidates.” Boyle looked annoyingly smug in her admission of wanting Jake’s help, before his expression collapsed into panic.

“Oh no! You don’t think he’s been kidnapped do you?” The women rolled their eyes at his dramatics.

“No, he’s probably just off sulking somewhere, but if you help us find him...”

“He can solve the case!” Boyle finished excitedly. Rosa and Amy refrained from commenting as he got his phone and pressed ‘1’ on speed dial. Amy scrunched up her face but ultimately decided against questioning how Jake ranked over Boyle’s family, really what did she expect at this point? Boyle also got voicemail. “Jake! Where are you? Have you been kidnapped? Send us a sign! Oh no, wait! I can track your phone, we’re coming Jake! Hold-” He pulled the phone away from his ear, having evidently been cut off. Rosa scoffed.

“Boyle-” Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by Jake’s office phone ringing. Boyle gasped.

“The kidnappers!” He declared, holding his face. Ignoring him, Amy strode over and answered it. Boyle frantically opened the phone-tracking app as Amy said.

“Peralta’s phone, he’s not working today, can I…?” She listened. “What?” Boyle and Rosa came over warily. “He’s there now? What did he say?” Her face was turning pale. Rosa grabbed Boyle’s arm to stop him from leaping forward and wrestling the phone off Amy. “Peralta’s on suspension, we think someone sabotaged his drug test. Keep him there, we want to question him.” She glanced at the others as she explained worriedly. “Peralta’s been out of contact for a few hours now.” She nodded again and then hung up. She indicated to the list of perps. “Is there a Geoffrey Hoytsman on there?”

“Sophia’s boss?” Boyle interjected as Rosa looked. Rosa got to the end and shook her head.

“The 97 picked him up for assault and public disturbance. Apparently he’s claiming that Jake ruined his life.”

“Oh God, what did he do?” Boyle demanded, voice genuinely distressed.

“They haven’t booked him yet, just thought he was crazy.”

“Boyle, did you track Jake’s phone?” Rosa snapped. Boyle jumped a little but went back to the app. He looked up and said slowly.

“This says it’s at the 97.” He looked between the two other detectives and said hopefully. “Maybe Jake tracked Hoytsman downed and followed him to…” It was unlikely, more likely that Hoytsman had swiped Jake’s phone after…Rosa coughed.

“I’ll update Sarge. Santiago, get the car started.”

“I’m coming with you.” Boyle insisted, collecting his things. A few minutes later they were driving to the 97. Sarge had understandably been concerned, but trusted them to get to the bottom of the mystery.

Detective Jenkins met them at the reception desk with a uniformed officer beside him.

“Santiago, this is Officer Blake, he picked up Hoytsman.” Amy nodded, her professional mask back in place and she introduced Rosa and Boyle. “I only rang you thinking what Blake told me in passing would be of interest to Peralta.” Jenkins went on to explain as they walked to the bull pen. “But when you told me about Peralta’s suspension I talked to Blake again.”

“My partner logged the phone we took off Hoytsman.” Blake carried on, holding up a phone in an evidence bag. Amy took it and gulped before confirming hoarsely.

“It’s his, we tracked it here.” Jenkins nodded grimly and then glanced at Blake.

“Apparently there was also a videotape?” Blake nodded and nodded to the briefing room.

“Gave it to our tech guys and they found a player for it.” They all piled in and watched with bated breath as the tech put it on. On the screen was Jake Peralta, tied to a chair and looking up nervously at someone above the camera. After a moment he began reading the incredibly dumb and evil things he had apparently framed Hoytsman for. Amy felt her whole body tense, recoiling at the indignity of it - Hoytsman's voice was clearly audible - and the fear. Jake was trying to hide it, and managed for the most part, but his own fear peeked out a few times.

The video ended with Jake reading that he was meant to take his own life and the split second before it cut to black, of Jake’s eyes snapping up in alarm, his mouth open to say something, cut Amy to the core. There was a taught moment of silence before Jenkins coughed.

“Of course we don’t know what actually happened.” He turned to Blake. “Is he ready?” Blake nodded, looking a little green.

“Yeah, he’s in 3.” Rosa nodded stiffly and marched off to the room. Amy and Boyle watched from behind the glass as Rosa stood menacingly, Detective Jenkins sitting faux-casually.

“Where’s Detective Peralta?” Jenkins asked carefully. Hoytsman stared at them a moment before huffing.

“So you haven’t arrested him yet? He ruined my life!” Jenkins leant forward.

“So he’s still alive.” Hoytsman frowned.

“How should I know? Why can’t anyone do their jobs!” Jenkins ignored the complaint and pressed.

“We can’t arrest him if we don’t know where he is.” Hoytsman considered that, Amy’s knuckles turning white as she struggled to keep herself from going in and strangling him.

“I think he’s still in the truck.”

“What truck?” Rosa barked, startling the perp. He regrouped and announced stiffly.

“Belonged to an ex-client. I can’t believe I’ve been reduced to living in an ice cream truck!”

“Registration number.” Rosa ordered harshly as Jenkins took notes. Hoytsman whimpered.

“I don’t remember!” Rosa glanced at the window and Amy nodded, leaving to look it up and glad for a task to take her away from the sickening show, to distract her from thoughts of what that man had done to her partner. Blake leant her his computer, thankfully not attempting to make small talk as she searched. It didn’t take long and she printed out the page, leaving Blake to put out an BOLO, advising the area where Peralta was last seen.

When she returned to the observation room, she was almost deafened by the noise. Hoytsman was screeching and whimpering, cowering as Jenkins struggled to hold Rosa back.

“Calm down Diaz!” He shouted. Rosa only growled mindlessly. Amy looked to Boyle for an explanation and was disturbed to see tears trickling down his cheeks, lips trembling.

“I didn’t do anything!” Hoytsman protested. “He killed _himself_!” Amy gasped and she dropped the print out. It floated gently to the floor, ignored, as Charles began to cry in earnest.

…

Immortality sucked, Jake decided, seeing as the 100 years he’s spent bleeding out was the worst time of his life, ever. He wanted someone there to put that on record. Someone, anyone. Mercifully the pain had lessened over time; his head got heavier and his vision became blurry. Ironically, the more he realised that he needed to stay awake, the harder that became. He was exhibiting classic signs of blood loss, he needed…His head jerked up and his wound twinged. Dammit! He’d drifted off. Must. Stay. Awake.

“You’re not looking so hot.” Blinking, he frowned as he saw Amy standing in front of him, arms crossed and a small smirk on her face.

“You’re not here.” He said, semi-certain. She shrugged and Jake supposed that no, it didn’t really matter. Her smile widened.

“This is such a _you_ way to go.” Pouting, he protested.

“No, it’s not! I’m meant to go out saving hostages from terrorists.” Amy turned a little to examine the truck, not answering for a moment.

“I don’t know, Jake. An ice cream truck, a whiny junkie…only you could get into this exact, wacky scenario.” He conceded the point reluctantly, secretly glad that she was there…well, sort of.

“Can’t believe the gun wasn’t loaded,” he said, “of course the crazy guy had forgotten to buy bullets!” Amy twisted her lip sympathetically.

“It’s protocol to assume the gun is loaded.” Jake grunted before gasping.

“Oh God, I hope Charles doesn’t really commit suicide out of respect.” Amy looked at him kindly.

“We’ll look after him.” Jake breathed a sigh of relief, barely registering how he didn’t feel anything anymore.

“And you? You’ll be alright?” She smiled sadly, perching on the edge of the counter.

“You know I will.” She laughed a little. “I think it’s safe to say that partnering with you has prepared me for whoever they throw at me next.” Jake tried to sound nonchalant as he bantered back.

“Hey, you’ll never get a partner as cool as me.” She tilted her head doubtfully. “Shuddup.” He managed, feeling sleepy. Her expression became more serious.

“We never did get our timing right, did we?” Jake’s eyes closed as he hummed in agreement.

“I’ll miss you.” He said. Well, tried to say. Now he was kind of floating in nothingness so…who knew…

Something touched his cheek.

“Jake!” Someone called him urgently from far away. Soft hand, he thought, as it fluttered over his face and neck, pressing on his pulse point. More indistinct shouting. “Hold on Jake! They’re 2 minutes out! Just hold on. Please!” Nice voice, he thought, before he slipped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Chapter 2 should be up in a few days.  
:D


	2. You Saved Me

Rosa stared out of the window, looking out over the hospital car park. People came and went, some wheeled around to the little patch of green on the edge of the hospital grounds. It was a nice day, the sun was out, although too weak to provide much heat. It was the kind of day on which Jake would insist on buying ice cream and then whine about brain freeze and how cold the wind was. Rosa cringed and cleared her throat, forcing herself to focus on a small flock of birds dipping and weaving in the distance. Jake was officially out of the woods, despite his heart stopping on the ride to the hospital. Rosa was guiltily glad that Amy had volunteered to accompany them, being the most knowledgeable about Jake’s medical history. Rosa didn’t know if she would have been able to keep her composure if she’d had to watch one of her oldest friends die.

It had been bad enough hearing about it from a pale but locked down Amy. It had been bad enough throwing open the truck doors and recoiling from the harsh smell of blood, of seeing a male figure, hunched over lifelessly. Amy had raced in and found a pulse, Rosa kicking herself into action, cutting the bonds and helping the paramedics load him into the rig. It had been bad enough pacing the poorly-lit and smelly waiting room, trying to ignore the stoic Holt, worried Amy and Sarge, the near catatonic Charles curled up in a corner being absently petted by a white-lipped Gina.

She couldn’t even feel relief when told the surgery had been a success, that he was expected to make a full recovery. She had been in and out of the hospital over the past week. Jake waking sporadically, not for long and never fully coherent. Watching him lie so still and silent freaked her out a little, even sleeping he would shift and mumble, so she had taken to watching the view instead.

A rough cough from behind her drew her attention and she reluctantly left the window, pouring some water into the cup and helping him drink. He swallowed clumsily, a little water trickling down his chin. She got a tissue and wiped his face carefully, avoiding his gaze.

“Rosa?” He rasped. “What…happened?”

“You were murdered.” She reported bluntly. “But they got you back. You’re going to be fine.” To her dismay, her voice wobbled. Jake just frowned at her, not seeming to have taken it all in. They sat there in silence as he thought.

“There was…an ice cream truck?” She nodded. He gasped suddenly. “Hoytsman?”

“We got him. He confessed once he sobered up, and remembered what he’d done.” Rosa had not been allowed in the same room as him. She didn’t much care, but hoped Jake never found about how her loss of control in the interrogation.

“Sorry.” Jake groaned. Rosa blinked and then frowned.

“For what?”

“Not listening.” He whispered, clearly exhausted but determined to speak. The tissue in her hand crumpled as she clenched her fists.

“Don’t.” She half-growled. He didn’t seem to have heard her, eyes sliding shut as he whispered again.

“Stupid, no surprise…” She watched as he slipped back into unconsciousness. Terry came in but stopped short on seeing Rosa’s face. He spared a worried glance in Jake’s direction before asking.

“Is everything alright?”

“Fine.” She choked out before beating a hasty retreat. Feeling like a coward, she returned to the station and threw herself into some paperwork; the familiar sounds of the station soothed her rattled nerves. After a while, she felt steady enough to leave her desk and found herself in the breakroom. Boyle was pouring himself some obscure tea and humming. Although seemingly the hardest hit by Jake’s abduction, he had bounced back the fastest. Probably because out of everyone, he had the healthiest coping mechanisms and although he felt guilty about not helping to find Jake sooner, Charles hadn’t actually been assigned the case. He’d also believed Jake from the start; so maybe it had been out of his over-the-top loyalty, but Charles had demonstrated the ability to criticize Jake in the past – if reluctantly, and wasn’t as bumbling as he appeared. If he’d been assigned the case from the start, Jake wouldn’t have been left alone, wouldn’t have been hurt…killed.

Rosa had tried to push her guilt down but it kept rising back up like a black wave. She blinked, realising that Boyle had said something.

“Want some?” He asked, gesturing to the tea bags. “No offense, but you look like you could use a pick me up.” Tired and vulnerable, she just shrugged and joined him at the little table. The first few sips weren’t great but after forcing herself on, the tea became tolerable. Charles didn’t speak although he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“He apologised to me.” She said eventually. “_Jake _apologised to _me._” Her voice wobbled again so she blinked quickly and took another sip of tea.

“From the report, it did say he got out of the car himself,” his lips twitched, “I can just imagine the cool line he said as he did.” Rosa couldn’t remember, though she doubted it had been badass. “Look, I’m Jake’s best friend and he just might be the greatest cop to grace this good green Earth, but he’s still human, still makes mistakes. Plus no one saw Hoytsman coming. You can’t take all the blame for this.” Rosa thought that over, saying.

“I was scared that we’d lose him.” Charles nodded sympathetically.

“Me too, I didn’t sleep for like 3 days, thinking I’d get a call in the middle of the night. But Jake’s strong, he’ll pull through just fine.” Feeling a lot better, Rosa nodded and took the tea back to her desk.

…

Amy Santiago never thought she could ever think badly of her Captain, but she couldn’t help feeling a little resentful of him when he’d practically ordered her to relieve Gina of Peralta Watch. Since he’d woken properly, Peralta had improved a lot, staying awake for longer and having whole conversations with people. Holt had taken his official statement which had been added to the case file. Hoytsman was due to be sentenced the following week so it had been more of a formality. The Captain had seemed a bit snappish for the rest of that day, but then Amy had been a bit of a mess, so she couldn’t be sure. She could admit to herself that she hadn’t been coping too well; working a stupid amount of overtime, not eating or sleeping much – she filled her days and nights with work, anything to avoid seeing Jake die again and again in her nightmares – and worst of all, not visiting Jake. She wanted to…in theory, but the reality had proved her to feel dizzy and weak whenever she thought about it, so she hadn’t gone.

“Santiago, you have been working at an unsustainable rate and I haven’t seen Gina all week. Go to the hospital, send her back here and don’t return until the day after tomorrow. That’s an order.” Holt’s words ringing in her head, she trudged reluctantly up to Jake’s room, breathing in as evenly as she could to stave off a panic attack. She reached his door and almost barrelled through the doorway in her haste to get it over with. Blinking, she realised that the woman beside Jake’s bed was _not _Gina, his childhood friend, but…

“Sophia?” Amy asked a little stupidly.

“Amy.” Sophia greeted cordially, recovering from her shock at the door opening so suddenly. Glancing back at Jake, who was watching them both a little nervously, Sophia picked up her purse and jacket. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Me too.” Jake replied seemingly automatically, managing a smile as Sophia took and squeezed one of his hands. Then she coughed, nodded at Amy and slipped gracefully out of the room. The door closed behind her, leaving a weighty silence.

“Where’s Gina?” Amy asked hurriedly, mind suddenly whirling with questions she didn’t really want answers to. Jake frowned.

“Uh, I think she’s stalking this hot doctor she saw the other day.” Amy managed a small laugh at this, Jake smiling a little.

“You okay?” Amy started, confused.

“Me?”

“No offence, but you look like,” he coughed, evidently trying to find a tactful word before giving up, “crap, you look like crap.”

“Hey! You can talk!”

“Yeah, but I got an excuse.” Amy looked away at that. She didn’t think she’d ever get over the memory of desperately trying to clean Jake’s blood off her hands, of bursting into the truck to see his pale, lifeless body slumped and thinking…thinking…and then in the ambulance, hearing the terrible steady tone of a still heart, coming so soon after the rush of joy and relief at finding a pulse earlier. The shouts of the paramedics and the sound of her own heartbeat thundering inside her head stayed with her still.

“Ames.” She forced herself back to the present, humming in acknowledgement. Jake looked uncomfortable as he sighed. “Thank you, for,” he waved his hand vaguely.

“I left you.” She blurted. He frowned before realising her meaning. Shaking his head, he said firmly.

“No, I got out and turned down your offer to drive me home. It was my own dumb fault.” Amy couldn’t argue with that, though the guilt remained. Jake forced a smile. “You were right, that was a very _me _way to go.”

“Huh?” Jake mirrored her look of confusion before his expression cleared.

“Oh, that might have been Hallucination-Amy.”

“What?” Laughing very awkwardly, Jake scratched the back of his head, wincing at the pull on his stitches. Shaking her head, she decided that maybe it would be better not knowing, she got the gist anyway. “So, when do they think you can go home.”

“Today actually, just waiting for the doc to come by and sign off.” Jake’s phone pinged. He reached for it but grunted, frustrated as it was too far away. Amy pushed a strand of hair off her face.

“Here.” She handed it to him, flinching a little as their fingers brushed. He was warm, she realised belatedly. He glanced at her a little strangely, but didn’t comment on her brief spaz-out. He did wince, however, as he read the message. “What?”

“Gina bailed on me, going to accompany McDreamy to an afternoon rave?” He sighed before rallying. “Guess I’ll ask Charles if he can come and drive me hone.”

“I can do it.” Amy offered without thinking. Jake’s look of surprise made her feel even more guilty.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Holt basically ordered me not to go back to the station till Thursday so, I’ve got time.” Looking torn between happiness and shyness, Jake swallowed.

“Okay.” Amy threw herself into the paperwork and gritted her teeth as she helped Jake put on his shoes and jacket – thankfully Gina had already helped him get dressed earlier. Jake made an effort to chatter as normal but he grew tired quickly and fell asleep as soon as she pulled out of the carpark. Left alone with her thoughts, Amy winced, disgusted with herself that among her guilt and hyperawareness of his soft breaths was an intense need to find out what Sophia had wanted. Were they getting back together? Was that harpy trying to worm her way back in?

Amy was painfully aware that it wasn’t any of her business. She’d had her chance and she’d chosen Teddy instead; only realising too late that although perfect on paper, he couldn’t make her happy. She wasn’t even sure that she and Jake could have worked, so she was being selfish and she should keep her nose out of it. The drive was agonising as the questions and doubts chased themselves around her mind.

Finally, they reached Jake’s place. Amy parked and turned off the ignition, forcing herself to look at Jake. He still looked pale and tired, but his face was relaxed in sleep and for a moment, it was almost like they were on a stakeout and it was Jake’s turn to keep watch. Amy coughed loudly and poked him gently. He groaned a little but otherwise didn’t stir. Huffing, Amy sat back. There was no way she’d get him up to his place on her own, and she didn’t know anyone in the building. Frowning, she considered. Did Jake even have anything to eat up there? Her nose wrinkled as she remembered the one and only time she’d visited his old place – God, the smell had been horrendous. Another poke yielded no results so she made an executive decision. She had leftovers in the fridge and Ernie downstairs had once helped her move her couch so, Jake had to weigh less than that, right?

…

Groaning, Jake tried to roll over and jerked awake in time to stop from pulling out his stitches. He cursed and rubbed his eyes with his right arm. Blinking and yawning, he pulled himself up carefully before freezing. This wasn’t his bed. He frowned, trying to remember how he’d gotten there. He’d been waiting to be discharged, Gina had left to go stalking. Sophia had come to see him and hadn’t that thrown him for a loop.

Of course he’d been reminded of her whilst her ex-boss had been holding him at gunpoint, but he’d deliberately pushed down thoughts of her and their relationship. She had quickly explained how she’d been involved and though expressed horror at what had been done to him, did not show any guilt. And hadn’t that hammered home just how over him she was? Her ex-boss had abducted him, almost killed him and she felt bad, but not in any way even tangentially responsible. Which would have been illogical but an understandable emotional reaction. That was Sophia all over, so tightly-controlled she came across as cool and logical in the extreme. Seeing her, his heart had ached that familiar ache, but he knew there was no going back; that chapter was closed.

Then Amy had walked in and that had been awkward. Amy… He recognised the faintly grandma smell. He frowned. Why was he in Amy’s bed? He could hear some clattering from the kitchen and glanced at the alarm clock: 19:30. Had he slept right through being driven there and carried up to her bed? He had vague memories of the car and voices and stairs. Grunting, he got up slowly, noticing he was still dressed albeit sans shoes and belt, and padded to the kitchen.

The microwave was going so she didn’t hear him approaching. Her little yelp as she turned and saw him made him smile. She recovered and asked quickly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Been better.” He quipped as he creaked into a chair. Amy’s hands twitched like she wanted to help, but stopped herself. The warmth inside him spreading, Jake smiled a little more as he teased. “You’re not cooking are you?” Recovering her usual exasperation, Amy huffed.

“No, just reheating some takeout, if you’re up for some.” He wasn’t hungry but knew he should eat.

“Maybe a little.” She laid the table and they made idle conversation, Jake having been caught up on station gossip since he’d been ‘away’. Sitting there, nibbling on an egg roll and shooting the breeze with Amy, Jake felt the most relaxed he’d been since…well, in a long time – maybe even before his break up with Sophia. He was aware that Amy wasn’t completely at ease and suspected it had something to do with him dying in front of her. As soon as his stitches were out, Jake was going to box up everything related to the horrible ordeal and shove it deep down with everything else he didn’t want to deal with, but seeing as he couldn’t escape it until then, he ventured carefully. “How are you really?”

“I’m fine.” He just raised an eyebrow, trying to channel his inner Rosa.

“Okay,” she sighed in defeat, “so I’m a little freaked out.” Not knowing what to say, Jake put his hand over hers and squeezed. She looked down at their hands and flushed a little. “I’m being stupid.”

“Ames, if there was anything to be freaked out about, it’s this.”

“You scared me.” She admitted quietly. Inappropriately, this made Jake smile. “What?” Deciding never to divulge how happy that made him, Jake just shook his head.

“You saved me.”

“Barely.” She muttered. Tutting, Jake countered.

“Still counts as a win. Thank you.”

“Don’t.”

“Okay, but now next time I save _your _ass, I reserve the right to brag about it.” She smiled.

“Like I’d ever expect anything else.” There were still things to talk about, to work through, but for the rest of the evening they just enjoyed spending time together – reaffirming that they were both alive and cared for one another.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Chapter 2 should be up in a few days.  
:D


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